Reality
by Invader Sam
Summary: For four genetically mutated turtles, life was never simple, and at age eighteen things aren't getting any simpler... A coming-of-age story with a twist...UPDATED! Chapter 7 is up! It's time for Raph to head back to the Lair and take responcibility for hi
1. Prologue

Reality - A TMNT Fanfiction

By Invader Sam and Invader Shaun

Prologue

"Get up, runt! You want this food? Then fight for it!" Maybe it was wrong to ask a girl no older than six to fight for her very survival like an animal, but that was something twelve-year-old Darren Haize didn't worry about. It took a lot of guts for her to come begging in his part of town, and if she was really hungry enough, she wouldn't give up so easily.

The violet-haired little girl picked her thin frame up off the pavement, wiping dirt out of a fresh scrape of her face. "I don't wanna fight," she told the older, dark-haired boy, "You have plenty here – why can't you just share?"

Another boy, around ten or so with pale shaggy hair gave her a hard shove, "Cuz we don't feel like it! You didn't help steal it – why should we give you any if you won't even fight for it?"

The crowd of older children closed in, chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight!" as Darren moved into the circle they were forming around him and the little girl.

"I said I don't wanna fight," she cried desperately over their shouting.

"And I told you I don't care!" he told her, pushing her to the ground again. Before she could try to pick herself up he was on top of her, his fist connecting with her face over and over again. She wailed in pain and he grabbed her hair and bashed her head against the concrete. As tears started leaking from her eyes, he lifted her up by the hair as he stood. "We don't share food with babies," he sneered, "So until you grow up, you can forget about getting it here." Then he let her drop and his gang dispersed, disappointed.

"What a let down."

"That was pathetic."

"What a baby."

"I bet she'll be dead in a week."

"Heh heh…yeah."

"Come on, let's go eat…"

As their jeering voices faded into the distance, the little girl tried to pick herself up again. She couldn't stay out in the open or some people even worse than the boys would find her. She would go without food that night, but it wasn't like it was the first time. As she staggered to her feet, she felt a slow drizzle begin. Her head was throbbing and it was hard to think, the alley around her was going fuzzy.

_'My name…what's my name…?' _she tried frantically to remember.

_"Kylee!" _ she could hear a woman's voice cry in her head, _"Kylee, you have to get out of here. Quickly – go before they see you!"_

There had been smoke…fire…angry voices, all mixed with that woman's worried talking. Who was she…? Kylee couldn't remember…but she remembered being sad to have to leave her.

She made it around the corner slowly, the slow drizzle now heavier, soaking her. She fell again, losing her balance and hitting the sidewalk, her fall only broken by the puddles of water scattered across the cement. She watched as the water was tinted with red and then reached back, gently touching the back of her head where Darren had smashed it. She was bleeding. Things were going fuzzy again, but she couldn't fall asleep here. She would get caught for sure…or not wake up.

She got to her feet and stumbled off down the street, wanting to cry but remembering Darren's words, _"We don't share food with babies…" _ If she ever wanted their help, she would have to stop crying…for good.

* * *

A Note From the Authors: We apologize for the lack of Ninja Turtles in the prologue! Please continue on to Chapter One and things will start to make more sense! This is our first TMNT fanfic, so your reviews will be greatly appreciated! 


	2. Chapter 1 Teamwork

Chapter 1

_ Ten Years Later…_

"Man, I thought people were supposed to slow down as they got older!"

"Less complainin', Mikey – and more concentratin'," Raphael muttered as he rushed past his brother, a sai in each hand, towards the center of the room, where Master Splinter stood, wooden walking stick in hand, waiting for the oncoming attack.

Michaelangelo picked himself up, sliding his nun-chucks back into his belt momentarily, watching his hotheaded brother attempt an assault. It was supposed to be a joint-training excersize, but holding back for a few seconds to watch Raph get his tail kicked by their sensei was always worth the brief reprimand that would come for his 'laziness'.

The old mammal remained perfectly still until the last possible second, when Raphael leapt up and over him, throwing both sai towards Splinter. As his sons developed in their skills (with age, finally, came a bit of maturity, which allowed for calmer, more rational thought) they were instructed always to attempt to deliver a killing blow to their master. Live-fire fights permitted the maximum amount of realism, a necessity with the dangerous enemies of the upper world. Though there was always a slight risk, the aging rat still held confidence enough in his skills to allow the turtles to compete at the top of their game. He side-stepped with great haste, causing both projectiles to miss their target, lodging into the concrete floor several inches away from their goal. Surprised, Raph was late with his recovery, having to roll after hitting the ground instead of landing on his feet as he should have. He cursed himself for his clumsy form, and stood again, desperately trying to prepare for his sensei's attack. Splinter rushed towards his son, swinging his staff in an arc aimed for the amphibian's cheek.

Raph felt the wind as the wood stopped mere centimeters away from his face. Opening his eyes, he inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, although too soon. With a simple flick of his wrist, the old rat brought the staff down upon the top of his son's head swiftly. "Ow!" the short-fused turtle cried out without meaning to.

"Never show surprise to an opponent," Splinter said, lowering his staff, "Always act as if you had interpreted their every move, even if you were not successfully able to."

From behind, Michaelangelo let out a short snicker. He slapped a three-fingered hand over his mouth quickly, hoping his small mistake went unnoticed.

"Michaelangelo," Splinter said sternly, turning towards the second of the turtles present, "I did not give you permission to stand down. Had you aided your brother, rather than stand back and watch, he may not have been defeated."

The orange-masked young man nodded solemnly, "Sorry Sensei," he attempted to remain quiet, to leave it be on that note, but his mouth opened and continued to pour forth words before his better judgment (always suspiciously absent in such situations) could claim full control, "But Master, even if I had stepped in, Raphael would have just told me to back off anyway. You know how he is – he's too stubborn to every _really_ work as a team."

"Excuse me, but _he_ is still here!" Raph spat, "And lemme ask ya, Mikey, when was the last time, when I asked for ya help, that ya actually helped, huh? Sensei, I'm better off without him slowin' me down."

"There's nothing short of chloroform that'll slow you down, Mr. Leap-before-looking!"

"At least I leap at all, Mr. Trainin's-a-waste-of time!"

"ENOUGH!" Splinter said loudly, trying to be heard over the commotion surrounding him, "This exercise was meant to strengthen the bonds of unity, trust, and teamwork. Had you put aside your differences for the common good, you would not have failed," he sighed, shaking his head, "Instead, you will both be assigned cleaning duty for the remainder of the week."

The brothers groaned in unison. "Not again…" Raphael muttered.

"Why don't Leo and Donnie ever get cleaning duty?" Mikey whined as he headed to the supply room.

"Because they have already mastered this phase of their instruction," the wizened old rat reminded them, "They have become so intone with one another that they move completely in unison, knowing each others very thoughts in battle. I had hoped that you two would complete this task more quickly, so I could rearrange the pairings." He shook his head, and turned towards the elevator, "I will leave you to your chores, and go see how your more mature brothers are usefully spending their time."

A brief moment of silence passed after their sensei left. Mikey's shoulders slumped slightly, and he walked off, "I'll get the toothbrushes."

Angrily, Raph knelt and yanked his sais back out of the cement floor. He'd been so close – it wasn't like he really wanted to hit Splinter, but at least catch him off guard once – just once! What more did he have to do to be worthy of that? Leonardo and Donatello had proven their worth months ago – Leo had always been the favorite anyway, so why was _he _surprised? Sighing, he belted the weapons and sat back, running one thick green finger along the floor. Lifting it up, he stared at the layer of filth now coating his fingertip. It was gonna be a long night.

The orange-masked turtle returned a moment later, holding two very worn looking tooth cleaning devices. He held them up to his brother jokingly, "Red or Green?"

_Yup_, Raph thought as he snatched the red one, _A really long night…_

* * *

"Leo, would you hold the light steady? I can hardly see from under here as it is without you getting distracted and moving the light," Donatello's muffled voice floated up from under the Battle Shell, which he'd been upgrading for the past few days.

"Sorry, just gettin' a little stiff, that's all," Leonardo explained, reprimanding himself inwardly for adding time to the already lengthy operation, "Making any progress?"

"I think so," Donnie said, fumbling for a wrench, "A few more days at this pace and the ground-to-air modifications should be fully functional."

_A few more days…great…_ "Sounds good," he remarked, trying to remain patient in spite of his slowly growing boredom.

"I know it's tedious now," the brainiac admitted, "But it'll be worth it – trust me! Just think of the distant we could cover this way."

"Hopefully that stealth plating we installed will keep us off the FAA's radars," Leo adjusted his position slightly, careful to not move the small beam of illumination from the flashlight, "For what we paid for it, it better."

"Don't worry, I've tested it enough times by now," Don said, "It should be fine- Ack! Ow…" He slid out from under the vehicle, sucking on one of his fingers. Waving his hand quickly as if shaking off the pain, he grinned up at his brother sheepishly, "Maybe that's enough for tonight…"

"Fingers had enough?" Leo teased lightly.

"Well, if I could just raise the car up so I didn't have to be so squeezed under it, I don't think I'd have as many…um, shall we say, 'clumsy moments'…" Don replied, grabbing an old rag from his extensive toolbox and wiping the oil off his hands, using it as a cover for what he was really doing – massaging his still sore appendages.

"Possibly, but not likely. Either way, the jack broke last week, remember? It met an unfortunate end in Hurricane Michaelangelo."

"You know I still haven't paid him back for that…" Don muttered, "Maybe I could get a hold of his–"

"That will not be necessary, Donatello," came a familiar, aged voice as the elevator doors hissed open, "Michaelangelo is presently occupied with a castigation that will keep him quite well out of the way of your equipment here."

Leonardo chuckled softly, "Cleaning duty again?"

The old rat nodded, "I only wish he and Raphael could learn to cooperate as well as you two do, at least during training."

"Raph and Mikey are like…Yin and Yang," Don said, tossing the blackened rag aside and coming to stand beside his brother, "Maybe trying to get them to work together is something that could wait until they're older."

"Yeah," Leo nodded, "Like forty or so."

Splinter rolled his eyes, "They must overcome their difficulties, not avoid them, my sons," he surveyed the scene briefly, scanning the bare, messy room. Satisfied that his two adoptive sons had not caused any chaos whilst not under his watchful gaze, the elder mammal turned to depart, "Dinner shall be prepared shortly."

"Great, I'm starving," Leo said, following his beloved sensei towards the elevator.

"From what? _ I _was the one doing all the work," Don shot at him, hurrying to catch up.

"You're not the one with the sore wrist!" The blue-masked vigilante retorted, rubbing just below his right hand, "Holding that flashlight in place for 4 hours can make a guy build up an appetite."

"Well, at least we'll get first dibs at dinner tonight," Don grinned, "I think Mikey and Raph will be conveniently absent from the feasting, at least until sensei takes pity on them."

"Not our problem," Leo said indifferently, "Their minds can be stubborn as long as they want, but as soon as their stomachs can't hold out any longer they'll have to learn to work together. It's not like a little teamwork once in a while would kill them," he paused, an eyebrow raised, "Would it?"

"I hope not," Don said, as the elevator doors shut behind them, "But with those two, it's hard to be sure."

"I'm sure they'll get over it…or drive Master Splinter so insane that he gives up and changes the pairings for training." Ever since their coming of age into legal adulthood (eighteen, finally!) the martial arts master had decided to train his young pupils in pairs of two, with only occasional four-on-one sessions. It was easier to devote more time to developing the skills of two at a time rather than the entire group. That was, at least in theory, the plan outlined by their master.

"Frankly, I'm kinda glad we got paired up, Leo," Don admitted, "I've really been learning a lot."

"Well, a month ago I wouldn't have been able to tell you a thing about how an engine works, but after putting in as many hours on the BattleShell as I have in these few weeks with you, I probably know more than I ever wanted to," Leonardo agreed, waiting for the elevator doors to open once again, which would announce their arrival on the sewer-level of their base of operations.

"For what it's worth, you're the most patient helper I've had," the engineering genius, "And certainly the steadiest hand of all of us – even I couldn't hold that light still for four hours," he added with a smile.

"Just another form of training, bro. But thanks."

"Anytime," Don grinned as the elevator doors slid open again, spilling them out into the main living quarters of the lair. Catching the sight of their other brothers crouched on the floor, absorbed in their work, Don strode over for a closer inspection, "How's it coming, guys?"

"Go ta hell," Raphael grumpily responded, scraping with his toothbrush at a particularly sticky piece of gum that was stuck on the floor near the couch.

"That bad, huh?" Don said, before Leo tapped him on the shoulder and mouthed, 'Don't push it'. Teasing Raph was Mikey's forte, it was best to leave it to him. One wrong comment, when he was already in a bad mood, was likely to push him over the edge. And the hotheaded turtle's temper had gotten no better with age. So Don nodded and said simply, "We'll save some dinner for you guys to heat up when you get finished."

"Thanks, dude," Mikey replied wearily, reaching under the couch, digging for dust bunnies. He watched his two cooperative siblings leave, then furthered his search, "Hey!" he exclaimed loudly, once again alone with Raph. His pulled his hand out from under the couch, clutching a taped-up controller, "Told you I didn't lose the remote," Michaelangelo told his red-masked kin smugly, waving the small device in the air.

"Wonderful…" Raph muttered, "Just…fckin' great!" with the last word, he slammed the toothbrush down on the floor, sitting up, arms folded across his chest.

"Hey, no need to get mad at me," Mikey replied, just a tad affronted, "I was just sayin' it wasn't my fault you didn't get to watch ESPN2 last night."

"Mike – did it ever occur to you that TV might not really be my problem right now?" Raph growled, glaring off in the direction their brothers had departed.

"Then what is it?" Mikey asked, setting the small remote down on the coffee table, "It's hard to tell what you're so ticked off about, when yer always pissed about _ something_."

"Oh it's just that now we've got two teacher's pets to deal with and…what am I tellin' you for?" he stopped himself, "I gotta get outta here…" he said, getting to his feet.

"But we're only half done!" Mikey protested, pointing his own green toothbrush at the floor where he still sat.

"Tell me somethin', Mike," Raph said as he grabbed his coat out of the closet, "Does it look like I care?"

"Well…no," the other's answer came, "But you can't just leave me here with all this!" he finished, flustered.

"What you do is your choice," Raph grunted, tugging the coat tightly over his shell, "I never said ya had ta finish the job yerself. I just said I ain't stayin' here anymore."

The orange-veiled turtle put down his toothbrush quickly, "Wait for me, bro!"

No sooner had the pair disappeared out the main entrance did Leonardo emerge from the kitchen, "Hey guys, Master Splinter said that you can come…" he trailed off, starring at the empty room, "…eat now…" he finished weakly, spotting the discarded toothbrushes. Sighing he turned back towards the kitchen, "Um…sensei? I don't think they'll be joining us after all…"

"Why not? Is their dedication to the assigned task so great that they would skip their evening meal?"

"Um…not exactly…well, they kind of…um…escaped…" Leo mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

There was a pause as the old rat rubbed his face with one withered hand, "They will come back, eventually. Patience is a virtue, Leonardo. They shall be dealt with properly upon their return."

"And as amusing as that may be to watch," Don mused, "I think they'll be back much too late to make staying up waiting for them worth it."

"I will wait for them," Splinter assured his two sons, "I'm sure that they will tell you about it in the form of complaints when morning comes."

"Works for me," Don said, heading to the fridge to refill his drink.

"I just hope they don't get into too much trouble…" Leo murmured.


	3. Chapter 2 Mind and Body

Chapter 2

"Uhhggg…did you _have_ ta come along??"

"Let's see…go up to the surface with my grumpy brother or get whacked repeatedly by Master Splinter's walking stick…" Mikey paused, putting a hand on his chin to give off the illusion of thinking, "I'd have to say…yeah, I had to come."

Raph sighed, "Alright, alright, you can stick with me, but let's get one thing straight," he said, grabbing his brother by the shoulder and lowering him just enough so that he could look down on the eight-year-old trapped in an eighteen-year-old's body, "You are not – under any circumstance – to embarrass me while we're out here. Got dat?"

"What entails embarrassment, Raph?" Mikey asked earnestly, hoping to get several easy ideas to log away for later.

Taken slightly aback by the question, the blood-red-masked turtle paused, "You know – anything that includes you being your usual obnoxious, over-bearing, idiotic self. All the stuff you do that makes me wonder whether we're really related."

"Ok, got it," Mike confirmed, nodding, "You can just call me Mr. Not-Embarrassing-You. Yup, that's me, Mr. Totally-Under-Control. Mr. Plain-And-Normal-Guy. Mr. Just-"

His words caught in his throat as Raph wrapped both hands around it, squeezing a little more than was really necessary. "Shut it or yer dead…"

The other turtle blinked blurrily, the lack of oxygen catching him by surprise, "Mr. Shut-It-Or-I'm-Dead. Got it. Now get off, please."

The hothead released his brother roughly, turning towards the open street at the end of the ally, "Just come on…"

"Okay," Mikey replied, some of his former cheer returning. Despite the number of times they had done it, heading up to the surface was always a bit like an adventure. One (well, at least Michaelangelo) couldn't help but feel just a tad excited.

Raph paused at the corner beneath the streetlamp, getting his bearings briefly before turning right, down a dimly lit street. Daring a glance back at his kid brother (whether there was any real (albeit small) difference in their ages remained to be seen, but 'kid' just fit as a descriptor for the now wide-eyed teen turtle), Raph wondered how well Mikey would take to _his_ particular brand of nightly activities.

"So…like, where're we goin'?"

"You'll just have to see when we get there," Raph replied, and said nothing more until they had reached their destination. A flickering neon sign was the only indication that there was even anything alive in the grimy side street he had led them down, and he turned down the twisted concrete stairs leading to the basement level of the old building. He paused in front of the door and glared back at his brother, "Remember – any funny stuff and you ain't makin' it home in one piece."

"I love you too, bro," Mikey mocked, wrapping his arms around Raphael's neck.

"Get offa me!" Raph growled, shoving his brother away, "That's the kinda stuff I was talkin' about. I mean it – if you can't behave yerself, you can sit out here and just wait for me."

"Geez, can't you take a joke?" the orange-masked amphibian asked, chuckling, "Lighten up!"

Raph put a hand to his face, massaging his eyes in frustration, "Lemme put it to ya dis way, Mike," he said, "I got people in there who respect me – and I'd like to keep it that way if it's okay with you."

Mikey raised an eyebrow, "Alright, but just one question: what kind of place is this, anyway?"

"We'll just call it…my kinda place," Raph said, with a tiny smirk, as he pushed open the door.

The building was a bar, a seedy, smoke-filled joint that had a stench that Mikey was glad he couldn't identify. Several thugs lined the counter, each sipping slowly from tiny glasses filled with Who-Knows-What. There were circular tables throughout the area, though only about half of them were occupied. A dull, smoky haze seemed to hover in the air, a putrid mix of cigarette and cigar smoke, gray and bleak. Mikey carefully took a breath through his mouth, "Uh, Raph?"

"Yeah, what?" the other turtle asked calmly.

"This is…um…an interesting choice of location for a swingin' nightlife…"

"If ya don't like it, ya can always wait outside," Raph replied, sliding into a seat at the end of the bar.

There was a brief pause in the conversation, before Mikey spoke up again, "How long does it take to build up a smell like this?" he inquired, staring at the translucent cloud hanging above their heads.

"Longer that I been comin' here, alright?" Raph grunted, then nodded to the bartender as the burly man approached them, "The usual, Mac."

The inarticulate man merely grunted, reaching under the bar for a small shot glass. He looked over a Mikey and raised an eyebrow at Raph, "He wit 'choo?" the server asked, slurring his words together slightly from the cigarette clenched between his teeth.

"Yeah…" Raph muttered, swirling the contents of his glass once before swallowing it in one gulp, "Gimme another," he set the tiny container down on the counter before glancing over at Mikey, "You want one?"

"One what?" Mikey asked, looking at the now empty cup, unable to fully grasp the situation. His brother, his own flesh and blood, was putting…poisonous substances into his body on purpose? Why? A ninja needed every advantage he could get, and a clean bill of health was always a leg-up, even if just a small one.

"It's whiskey, Mike," Raph explained, temper nicely in check for the moment, as the barkeep refilled his shot glass, "It's not gonna kill ya."

"I beg to differ, bro," the orange-masked turtle said coolly, "Even I know that drugs can kill."

"I didn't ask for a lecture, and I didn't let you come along so you could tell me how ta live my life," Raph growled softly.

"Yeah, I realize that, but you didn't ask me _not_ to lecture you on how the liver is an important organ," Mikey pointed out, not really trying to get under his brother's skin, but enjoying it anyway, "And you didn't specifically tell me _ not _to come."

"Dat's it," Raph said, setting his glass down after swallowing his forth round, "We're outta here." He handed a few crumpled bills to the bartender, grabbed his brother forcefully by the arm and dragged him out into the open night air again. "Goddammit, Mikey – I can't take you anywhere."

"What?" he asked indignantly, "I didn't even do anything yet!"

"Look – I'm tellin' ya now, so you can't say I didn't tell ya later – butt out. What I do with my own time, with my own body, ain't none a' your concern."

"Yes, it is," the other turtle told him seriously, "You're my brother. What happens to you is important to me. I won't just stand by and let you make these kinds of mistakes!"

"Mistakes???" Raph thundered, his hairline-trigger temper now bordering on 'out-of-control', "Since when was makin' yerself feel better a mistake?"

"Funny, I always thought you were tough," Mikey chuckled, shaking his head, "Depending on chemicals to make you feel good? Man, what a joke!"

"I amuse you, do I?" Raph growled, seizing his brother by the collar and slamming him up against the nearest wall, "We'll see how amusing you think I am in a minute…"

Michaelangelo lashed out with one leg at his brother, aiming right between the legs. All manner of his previous light mood was gone, a serious expression plastered on his face. Normally, Raphael would hold the upper hand in a fight between the two, but "under the influence", Mikey was almost positive a confrontation would barely even be able to be called a fight.

Raph cringed and his grip loosened, allowing Mikey to touch the ground again. "Cheap shot…" he muttered hoarsely, "You'll pay fer that one…" His fist then flew towards his brother's face.

The blow stung, but not as badly as one that a sober Raph would have delivered. Mikey stumbled a step or two, then countered with punch of his own, thrusting forward his arm at his sibling's jaw.

As that hit connected, it knocked the first piece of Raph's disguise (his hat) to the street. Rubbing his jaw briefly, he looked at it. "Aww, fck it," he said, tossing his coat aside as well, "The stuff gets in the way anyway." Now moving a bit more freely, he made another lunge at Michaelangelo.

The second turtle dodged the would-be blow, moving out of the way and leaving only the brick wall behind him for his brother to connect with.

Raph's mind now slowed from the alcohol, he had no time with which to stop his crash course with the wall, which he hit roughly, and then staggered away from, the right side of his face scraped and raw. Twisting around to face his brother again, his sight slightly blurred, his head pounding, knowing he couldn't win in his current condition, but being too damn stubborn to concede. He pulled his sais out of his belt, breathing heavily, "For too long you been gettin' the better a' me…an' I'm fckin' sick of it…"

"Put 'em away, Raph," Mikey warned, fingering his own weapons of choice, "I'm pretty damn tired of your bullshit, so put 'em away and we can go home. We'll get something for yer face."

"Don't you _ baby_ me, dammit!!" the intoxicated one cried, and he rushed forward once more.

The orange-masked turtle sidestepped once more, putting two hands on his brother's shell as he passed and using Raph's own momentum to push him down onto the gravel of the alleyway.

Raph skid across the gravel and slowed to a stop, pounded the ground once with his fist and then, mixed with what Mikey could've sworn was a muffled sob, muttered, "Goddammit…"

"Raph…you ok?" Mikey asked, "I didn't wanna hurt you. It wasn't a fair fight, after all."

"No, Mike…no, I'm not okay…" Raph slowly sat up, his face and arms stinging from fresh scrapes, "Uhg…" he gripped his head with both hands, trying to will away the pounding that was growing slowly louder, "I haven't…been okay for a while…Kinda surprised none of ya noticed. I…I think Splinter caught me come staggering in one night…but I don't really remember…it's all blurry…" He hadn't wanted to say any of that; it had just sort of spilled out. And he was too dizzy to even bother taking it back.

Mikey scratched his forehead, "Well, we did notice that you were goin' out a lot more, but none of us figured you were doin' drugs. What's so bad about life now? I don't really think anything's changed in the last few years, so why start screwin' things up for yourself now? I thought as we got older things were going to get simpler!"

"It never gets simpler, Mikey…" Raph spat, "And quit sayin' I'm 'doin' drugs'…makes it sound bad."

"Gee…that might be because…uh, it is?"

"Yeah, so what?" he asked, brushing the bits of rock off his arms. The sitting still was helping his dizziness a bit. "Hittin' the bar a couple times a week ain't 'doin' drugs'. You catch me with a needle in my arm – then you can say I'm 'doin' drugs'. Until then…all I'm doin' is forgettin' myself for a while."

"Hate to break it to you, but alcohol is still considered a drug, bro," Mikey sighed, "Why do have to 'forget yourself'? You said that you aren't ok, so talk to me, dude! If you need an ear, you've got it right here."

"I…" Raph began, turning slowly to look at his brother, "I don't really wanna talk about it…" he said, feeling sweat on the back of his neck, "I don' even understand it yet…when I do I'll –" he stopped short, leaned away from Michaelangelo and vomited, " –let you know…" he finished weakly.

"Better figure it our soon," Mikey told him warningly, "Before it's too late."

"Sure…when I can think clearly at all…" Raph muttered, getting to his feet, "Let's get outta here."

"Lead the way," the other replied, cracking his neck back and forth.

Raph stumbled out into the main street, thankful that it was late enough to have dissipated any traffic. Why was Mike making him lead? He could barely see straight, let alone navigate. _'He prob'ly thinks he's doin' me a favor…' _That was what he got for being such a wise-ass. Well that was just great. About two blocks down, he paused to retch again. When he straightened up again, he looked back at his brother. "So…havin' fun yet? Glad ya came along?"

"Time of my life, Raph, time of my life," Mikey said jokingly, following his unsteady, obviously ill kin.

"Glad ta…hear it…" Another three blocks down, he spoke up again, "You know damn well…that I ain't got a clue where I'm goin'. Why don't ya just go home an' leave me alone?"

"What?" Mikey said, truly flabbergasted, "You mean you don't know where we are either? But I was followin' you, because you led me to that place."

"Shit...you mean ya weren't just fckin' with me?"

"No…" the mutant replied gloomily.

Raph groaned loudly and slumped over against the nearest wall, "Now what?"

"Ummm…" Mike started pathetically, but was relieved of having to do any real thinking when there was a crash of breaking glass and an alarm sounded the next street over, "I guess we could check out whatever _that_ was…"

"Sure, why not?" Raph shrugged, pushing himself back off the wall.

They hadn't gone far when a blur of a figure shot around the corner towards them. Not realizing there were obstacles now in the path, it came barreling straight into Mikey.

Having the advantage of a hard shell protecting his weak stomach flesh, Mikey was unphased by the collision, while the slight figure opposite him was knocked upon her fanny, "Hey," the turtle blinked, surprised, "What's the rush?"

The girl before him looked young, but not scared. She got to her feet hurriedly, clutching a stuffed duffle bag tightly. "Sorry, weirdo, I don't have time to chat," she quipped, eyes darting back from whence she had come, and then attempted to push past him.

Hearing the alarms from the distance and noticing the girl's peculiar behavior (shifty, nervous eyes and quick movements) allowed Mikey to put two and two together decently enough to come to the conclusion that something had gone afoul involving this youth. He grabbed her by the large collar of her jacket, putting a halt to what was a would-be escape, "I'm sure that those police dudes back there would love to chat about that bag of yours," the amphibian told her sternly, jerking his thumb in the direction of the commotion.

She clutched the bag even closer to her chest as she struggled against his grip. "Yeah? I think I'm gonna have to pass on that conversation," she said, kicking backwards with one workboot-clad foot, aiming for his kneecap.

Mikey grunted as he was hit but held his firm grip, "Any help here would be hot Raph," he called over to his brother, who was still resting against the alleyway wall.

"Right…" the less-oriented of the brothers nodded, coming up along side the girl and grabbing her by the arm, "Come on, kid, we don't wanna hafta hurtcha."

"Hurt me? Please, don't do me any favors, ok?" she snapped, taking the bag and swinging it hard, bashing him in the head with it.

"If you insist," Mikey said curtly, flattening out his hand and giving the young woman a karate chop in the neck, knocking her out.

She crumpled and Raph caught her with one arm, the other hand used in vain, trying to balance himself and her at the same time. "Nice work, Mike," he said, "Now whadda we do with 'er?"

A flash of headlights blinded them momentarily and then a familiar voice called out, "Hey guys – the cops are about ta pull around the corner. Wanna disappear?"

Mikey looked up to see Casey Jones (long-time ally and clear-cut nut-job) leaning on a hockey stick as if it were a walking stick at the other end of the alleyway, "Sounds about right," he half-shouted back, cupping one hand around his mouth, "Meet back at your place?"

"You guys need some cover or shall we just march our little parade off right now?" Casey said with a grin.

"Raph?"

"Cover we don't need," the inebriated mutant shook his head, "But help with this kid would be appreciated." He shifted the girl in his arms, nearly losing his balance in the process.

"Sure," said the tall, bluish-black haired human replied, jogging over quickly, "Gimme the little thief."

Raph handed her over and Casey scooped her up as the police sirens grew louder. "Great," Mikey said, "Now I suggest we book it before we're all stuck with a lotta question we don't wanna answer." Without hesitation, he wrapped one arm around his brother and the three of them vanished (albeit clumsily) into the darkness of the ally.

* * *

The Authors Talk Back! Here, we (yes, there are two of us) respond to your reviews!

**VestqueX **- Thank you! You'll just have to wait and find out, so keep reading and reviewing!

**Jo Dawn** - I'm so honored that you're enjoying this! You've been a big inspiration to me!

**K-Chan14** - Thanks!

**Sozei **- I'm flattered - this has got to be one of the nicest reviews we've ever gotten.

**Blue-Eyes White Knight** - Glad to know you're enjoying this, Ed! Spread the word, ok?


	4. Chapter 3 Justice

Chapter 3

"He's not nearly as bad as usual tonight," Casey said thoughtfully, setting the girl on his tattered couch, "He's prob'ly got you ta thank fer that, eh Mikey?" Raphael had excused himself the moment they'd reached the apartment and was retching in the bathroom.

"Yeah, I was just being too annoying for him to drink," the orange-masked turtle chuckled, settling down on a hard, slightly splintered wooden folding chair. It was made from cheap material, but the more probable reason for its poor condition was Jones' temper. He was quite a bit like Raph, actually, which would explain their friendship.

"You should go with 'im more often," Casey said, traipsing to the kitchen, "You might be able to get 'im ta quit before it gets too serious. I been tryin' ta talk 'im out of it, but it's kinda being…what's the word? Hypocritical."

"You too, Case?"

"Hey – I get bored easily," the dark-haired young man replied, reemerging with what looked like a glass full of mud, "Difference is, _I_ can handle my liquor. You bro's got what we call…a delicate system," he added with a grin as he ambled over to the bathroom, "Hey Raph – look what I got for ya."

A loud curse reverberated out of the bathroom, causing Mikey to grin. Casey was undiscouraged, though he too looked amused, "Drink it. Or you can just go on like dis all night."

"A'right, give it here," Raph replied, his voice rather weak and feeble.

"Atta boy, dere ya go," Casey said, a hint of mock-parental-influence evident in his voice, "You polish that off, an' you can come back out when you think yer not gonna puke all over my floor." He returned to the living room looking pleased with himself for accomplishing his mission.

"How long has this been going on?" Mikey asked, "I mean, Raph comin' here to puke his guts out. And what was in that stuff you gave him? Tar?"

Casey ran a hand through his dark hair, thinking, "Mmm…I guess it's been about a month or so…maybe a little more. I found him in an alley not far from that bar the first time and dragged his drunken ass back here – I couldn't just leave 'im ta get found by somebody else." He paused, reflecting, taking a seat beside the unconscious girl on the couch, "And as for the stuff in the glass – trust me, ya don' wanna know. Just believe me that it works."

"Flush the system and all that?" Mikey asked jokingly, smiling.

"Yep. Big time," Casey nodded, leaning down and grabbing the duffle bag the girl had had with her, "Now than, let's see what she was in such a hurry to get away with…"

When he opened the tattered container, several odd smells protruded from it, not offensive but strange none the less. Casey raised an eyebrow as he pulled a piping hot Chinese box. It was marked in several places with different symbols, all red and foreign to the vigilante's eyes, "Take-out?" he asked Mikey incredulously, sniffing it carefully.

"Lemon chicken and fried rice," the teen eating-machine answered, licking his lips and grabbing the bag, "Kung Pao chicken, Mu Shu pork, Chicken Chow Mein, Beef Lo Mein…"

"Hey buddy, no eatin' the evidence!" Casey scolded, trying to remove the bag from Mikey's iron grip.

"Aww, they'll never miss just one…" Mikey whined, mouth watering, "You can't tell me that smell isn't making you hungry."

"There's a phone in the kitchen," Jones said firmly, pointing, "If you got any cash, order out Chinese."

"But it's right here…" Mikey sighed as the bag was taken from him forcefully, "Are we really gonna bag her for stealin' food? I mean, if we let her go, than we wouldn't _ need_ to keep the evidence…"

"Well, search that gigantic coat of her's. There might be somthin' else incriminatin' to satisfy da cops."

"I feel kinda weird doin' this…" Mikey said uneasily, as he lifted the girl into a sitting position and Casey peeled the coat off of her.

"Hey, it's fer her own good," Casey reminded his friend, "Livin' on the streets runnin' from the pigs isn't exactly the safest way to live life."

At that moment, Raphael reentered the living room, empty glass in one hand, still looking greener than usual. He raised one eyeridge at the odd scene; the girl had fallen forward against Mikey's chest and he was holding her under the arms, looking nervous. "Um…can I ask what the hell you two're doin'?"

"Tryin' to look for stuff," the lone human male in the room explained, searching through yet another pocket of the large coat, "ya know, knives, drugs, stuff other than that Chinese over there that'll get the little thug into trouble."

"Little is right," Mikey said, looking down at the sleeping girl, "I can feel her ribcage like nothin'."

Raph nodded, then groaned and dropped down into the overstuffed chair across from the couch, sinking low into the cushions, one arm stretched over his eyes.

"Isn't drinking great, Raph?" Mikey asked, smirking, "Really makes you feel super, right? Didn't you tell me something along those lines?"

"Oh shut up…" he moaned.

"Hey guys, check this out," Casey interrupted them, gesturing to a pile on the wooden floor in front of him, "She's got a mini-arsenal here, lookit this…switchblades, pocketknives, razors, chains…"

"What's the stuff in the little bags?" Mikey asked, scratching his head as he stared at a pile of small, dirty plastic carriers on the coffee table.

"Looks like heroin to me," Casey said, "No needles on 'er though. She prob'ly just peddles the stuff."

"Don't you think she'd be a little better off with all this?" Mikey asked, somewhat confused, "I mean, why would she need to steal food when she can afford to sell dirt like this?"

"Dunno," Casey shrugged, "You don't suppose she's got more than one mouth to feed, do ya?"

"At her age?" the turtle asked, raising an eyeridge, "I sure hope not."

"I seen it before," Casey said, shaking his head, "Though considering her size, she prob'ly couldn't survive havin' a baby. So scratch dat idea."

"How old d'ya suppose she is?" Raph asked, resting his chin in one hand, eyeing the girl blearily.

"Doesn't look much more than 12," Mikey said, lying the small being back down on the couch.

"Guess we can always ask 'er when she wakes up," Raph muttered.

"Speakin' a' which," Casey said, getting to his feet, "D'ya think we need ta restrain 'er before that? D'ya think she'll give us a fight in the mornin'?"

"She was givin' us a fight just an hour or so ago," Michaelangelo replied, resettling himself on the folding chair, "So, I say we should at least bind her hands and feet."

"I'm on it," Casey nodded, pulling some fraying pieces of rope out of his armory (a.k.a. his hall closet). He made quick work of tying her hands together behind her back, and then her ankles. "Now if you two boys no longer require my assistance, I'm gonna turn in," he said with a mock bow before retiring to his bedroom.

Silence filled the room, but it was not fated to last. Not with the resident turtle motor-mouth in the area, "So, how're you doin', druggie?"

"Please don' call me that…" Raph sighed.

"Why not?"

"Cuz…cuz…" Why did that word annoy him so much? Because he hadn't realized his brother's opinion of him could sink any lower? Because it was true? But it wasn't…he wasn't a 'druggie'…was he? "I dunno…I just don' like it…"

"But it has a certain ring to it: Raph, the druggie!" Mikey joked, holding his fingers together in a rectangular shape at his brother, as a director does when surveying his scene.

"That's all I'll ever be, isn't it?" Raph muttered, "The jackass who always gets himself in over his own hothead, right?"

"Nah," Mikey said, walking over to his sibling and sitting on the armrest of the chair, "Yer also my brother, and don't forget it."

"Hmph," Raph snorted, trying not to look too pleased, "Hey Mikey…?"

"Yeah?"

"I dunno for sure if anybody else knows about this, sides you an' Casey…and I'd kinda like it ta stay that way…"

"You need help, Raph," Mikey said evasively. He had never been very good at secrets, and this was one he wasn't sure would be good to keep.

"Yeah, yeah…but look – how 'bout I work on getting it without the guys? I'm already the least favorite – an' this'll prob'ly get me kicked out fer good…" he muttered into his hand.

"We wouldn't kick you out!" Mikey responded strongly, affronted, "You might be the screw-up of the family, but yer still family, dude!"

"But how many times do I have to screw up before they get sick of it? I know Leo'd _love_ to bust me for this…" he said, wishing he could stop himself from going on. He hated baring his soul to anybody, and he was beginning to think that the alcohol still in his system wasn't helping.

"Leo likes to bust on you in general, it's been like that since we were kids." Mikey began to count on his hands, pushing down fingers, "Leo was the sensible one, Donny was the smart one, you were the wiseass one, and I was the handsome, adorable, all-around attractive and best ninja, funny one.

"Don't forget modest."

"But of course."

"So what you're saying, basically, is that you're gonna rat on me, huh? Somethin' about it being for my own good an' all that shit?"

"I was thinking about it."

"Great…" Raph sighed, running a hand over his throbbing head, "I owe ya for this, Mikey…"

"I take cash, preferably small bills."

With the last of his strength, Raph shoved Mikey off the arm of the chair and then passed into painless unconsciousness where he sat, slumped over in the chair.

Mikey rubbed his tender backside grumpily and stood once more, wanting to return the favor to his brother, but unable to bring himself to hit an unconscious opponent. He sighed and returned to his folding chair. Eating the Chinese food was still an option, but the amphibian mutant found he really was quite tired. Moments after he closed his eyes, Mikey fell into a dull, gray, dreamless sleep…

* * *

Raphael woke with a splitting headache, but a remarkably fresh memory of the night before. That was a change from his previous 'sleep-overs' at Casey's. The sound of breathing was everywhere, amplified by the throbbing in his head, and he realized he was the first one awake. Slowly, he staggered into the bathroom, where he filled the sink and soaked his head for a moment before scouring the medicine cabinet for the Advil. Feeling a little better after popping a couple pills, he wandered back out into the living room.

"Mornin' Raph," Mikey said softly, rubbing his eyes, "Awake already?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, "As much as this hangover begs for sleep, I was never one ta sit still for too long. Sorry if I woke you up."

"It's alright," the orange-masked turtle shrugged, yawning loudly, "We have to get an early start today anyway if we're gonna make it back to the sewer without causin' too much fuss."

"…Right…" Raph nodded, having momentarily forgot Michaelangelo's refusal to keep his…problem…a secret. Shifting the topic of conversation, he gestured at the thief they'd caught, "What're we gonna do wit' her? Just let Casey deal with it?"

"Why not?" Mikey replied, looking over at the little girl, "Sure he might be a little rough, but Casey knows what to do with trouble-makers, even mini ones."

"Works fer me," Raph said, "The less she sees of us, the better."

"We'll just leave him a note," Mikey said, heading into the kitchen. Returning with a scrap of paper and a pen, he quickly scrawled: 'Had 2 go – lots of 'splainin' 2 do. L8R. M & R'

"Come on, let's get outta here," Raph said, unlocking the deadbolt and stepping out into the hallway.

"I'm comin'," Mikey responded, stretching his arms above his head, trying as hard as possible to release some of the stiffness in his body from sleeping in that shoddy chair.

Raph found himself clutching the railing along the wall as they trekked down the stairs to the street level, groggier and sorer than he would have liked to be, but (as he was sure to hear plenty of times in the next few hours) he'd done this to himself. He pushed open the side exit of the building and stepping into the alleyway, blinking against the morning sun. Even in the shade of the buildings it was too bright for his liking. There was just something about the daylight that made him feel uneasy – exposed. Even considering the confrontation that was coming, he was looking forward to being down in the sewers again.

"How you holdin' up back there?" Mikey asked, peeking around the corner of Casey's apartment building, hoping the coast was still fairly clear at this early hour.

"I'll live," Raph muttered, putting a hand on the wall and shutting his eyes, trying to will the dizziness away, "How's the street look?"

"Pretty quiet, just some old dude sittin' on the bus bench."

"Great. Maybe he'll just blame his seein' us on his goin' senile…"

"Maybe we could distract 'im."

"An' how do you propose we do that?"

"Hey wait! The bus just pulled up! Ol' 7:14 right on time. There's our cover – c'mon let's run!"

"I don't think I can…" Raph said weakly, a new wave of nausea sweeping over him.

"I could always carry you."

"What're we waitin' for?? Let's go," Raph said, sprinting past his brother into the alley across the street, where the manhole was.

Mikey smiled as he swiftly followed his brother, "Works every time."

"Don't forget to shut the manhole," Raph said as Mikey descended the ladder into the sewer after him.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Mikey replied, pulling the heavy covering back into its place, "Hurry it up would you?"

"I'm hurrying," Raph muttered, "Forgive me if I'm not so anxious to get home."

"Okay, I guess yer not lookin' forward to tellin' everyone about your little drug problem, huh?"

"That's it – move – I'm goin' back up."

"Get offa me!" Mikey cried, using one foot to grip the slippery, wet metal ladder and the other to kick his brother in the shell, "Keep goin'!"

Raph dropped to the sewer floor begrudgingly, "Do I really gotta do this?"

Mikey smiled brightly, "Yup. C'mon, let's go get you in trouble!"

"Let's not and say we did, eh?"

The more sober turtle gripped his brother by the arm and began to pull him along down the corridor, "We'll all be there to help you, it won't be so bad. Trust me."

Raph allowed himself to be dragged, steeling himself for the worst and saying nothing.

* * *

**The Authors Talk Back!**

**VestqueX** - Thank you - we really enjoy writing action, so we try to make it good. And if you can - please point those other Mikey/Raph fans our way!

**Amy** - Yes, this is based off of the new cartoon series (which I, Sam, am hopelessly in love with! ). And we both feel that Raphael's hot-headedness gives him a depth that just wasn't there in the old cartoon series. And don't worry - all the main characters are going to have their fair share of 'air-time'!

**SulliMike** - It's great to see you again! Glad you're enjoying this.

**WitchGirl** - You're so sweet! Yes, the girl they caught is Kylee from the prologue. And we're thrilled to know we're staying true to the characters - that's something the fanfic author in us always strives for!

**Aerinsoul** - Unfortunately, with our lack of cable, we haven't seen Teen Titans in a really long time, and thus our inspiration has run dry. "Maturity" really seems whole on its own, and we're happy with it. Glad you're giving this new story a chance!

**Jo Dawn** - Still so glad that you're enjoying this! And I (Sam) meant what I said about you being an inspiration! Your TMNT stories are just so filled with heart that I can't help but love them. Thank you again for the kind reviews!


	5. Chapter 4 Honor

Chapter 4

"What the hell? Where am I? Hey! What the f-ck is this?"

There was a light thud and then another loud curse and the sound of the coffee table skidding across the wooden floor. Another trail of soft thuds later, the purple-haired girl was in the doorway of Casey Jones' bedroom, leaning against the doorframe so as not to lose her balance.

"Hey! Asshole – what is this?? Get up and untie me!"

"What's all the yellin' about?" Casey asked dully, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Who…who are you?" she asked more slowly, one eyebrow raised, "You aren't one of the guys who hit me last night…or did you just lose the freaky costume?"

"Calm down, little girl," Casey said, yawning as he stood up and cracked his neck, "It was too late to drag yer butt into the police station last night, so we kept ya here. We's was just makin' sure you wouldn't take off, that's all."

"So where're the other guys? I don't remember you at all…" she said, looking up at him. Turning her eyes away, as if intimidated by his size, she added quietly, "And I'm not a little girl – I'm sixteen."

He raised an eyebrow, "Whatever you say. You hungry? I assume that's the reason you were stealing that stuff last night."

Her cheeks flushed under the dirt, "I can't say I'd turn down food, if you're offering…" she muttered.

"Sure," Casey said, walking right past her towards the small kitchen portion of his messy apartment.

"Hey…aren't you gonna untie me?" she asked, clumsily hopping after him.

"Nah, you'd probably try ta hop out the window," Casey remarked lightly, looking through his cabinets for something non-expired and reasonably edible.

With a frustrated sigh, she slumped down into a plastic folding chair at the also plastic-fold-up kitchen table. "So…where're those other guys from last night?"

"Went home, got some issues of their own ta settle."

She nodded, "I could see them having issues – what with the costumes they were wearing…"

"Costumes, sure," Jones finally decided on a large box of "Captain Crunch" and pouring a large amount into one of the several chipped glass bowls sitting on his counter.

Her stomach rumbled loudly as he set the bowl in front of her, and she looked up at him incredulously, "I suppose I could just inhale it…"

Casey groaned softly and picked up a plastic, "Wendy's" spoon. He poured a small amount of milk into the bowl, and managed to get some of the food bits onto the spoon, offering it to her.

She was taken slightly aback by the movement, but was too hungry to care for very long and she closed her mouth around the spoon, chewing just enough so that she wouldn't choke and then swallowed, opening her mouth for more.

Casey sighed and continued to spoon feed the restrained juvenile delinquent, the room filled with the slightly irritating sounds of lips smacking and tiny grain bits crunching.

The bowl was empty in a matter of minutes, and the girl looked like she could down the whole box and more if given the chance. "Thanks," she mumbled, twisting her head to wipe her mouth on the shoulder on her coat.

"Want some more?" he asked hesitantly, unsure of whether or not it would be a good idea to give the child more sugar in such a manner.

"Nah, I'm good," she lied, "So – off to the station we go?"

"Yup," Casey told her brightly, standing up.

"What floor of this building are we on?" she asked suddenly.

"3rd, why? You thinkin' about jumpin'?" he asked, chuckling to himself.

"I'm not that stupid," she quipped, "I just don't think I'll be able to hop down three flights of stairs. So are you gonna untie my legs now?"

Exasperated, the young man gave in, "Alright, alright! Gimme a minute with these knots," he knelt down by her ankles, working to loosen the bindings.

Watching his hunched form with interest, she asked, "I suppose you do this a lot, huh? I mean toss riff-raff like me into jail."

"I get around, yeah."

"Mm..." she nodded, "What're you gonna do with my stuff?"

"What, the 'crack'?" he asked, taking a brief moment's rest from his work to gesture over at the pile of small bags on the coffee table, "It's the evidence against you. That stuff's gonna get you a good place in juvy, where you can get a chance to turn your life around for the better."

"I figured that…I meant the food – I don't think the fuzz need that. Do you think you could dump it off at the burned-out tenement on 43rd street?"

Jones scratched his head at the odd request, his other hands pulling the rope loose and letting it fall to the ground, "What for?"

"Let's just say it'll be appreciated," she told him, stretching her legs out gratefully, "Even if it is cold – and late, thanks to me…"

"If I got the time, I'll swing by that way after I drop you off," the man said, picking up the duffle bag of food with one hand.

"Thanks," she said seriously, then stood, "And um…if anyone asks for Kylee – just tell them I'm okay, will you?"

Casey nodded solemnly, "Sure. Now c'mon, we gotta get goin' before the rush starts up at the station. Crime never sleeps in the Big Apple ya know."

"Not heavily anyway," she said with a small smirk, "Lead the way."

* * *

"Michaelangelo, Raphael – where have you been? Do not think that because you have grown older I have ceased to be concerned for your safety. Leaving as you did was thoughtless and irresponsible – though I'm sure you have a healthy supply of explanations as to your nocturnal excursions."

Leonardo and Donatello crouched on the second story ledge encircling the lair, eager to hear, but not exactly wanting to be too close, so as to avoid what was sure to be incredibly tense atmosphere down on the first level.

"Raph, do you wanna take this one or should I?"

The color in Raphael's face darkened as he glanced up at the second floor, spotting Leo and Donnie's shadowed figures. "Uh…sensei, would you mind if we…uh…discussed this in _your_ room?" he asked sheepishly.

"Raphael, anything that will be said is to be said in the open, among family. You are not in a position to be bargaining for favors. I want to hear explanations, or punishment shall be given without knowledge."

He sighed, shoulders drooping, "Alright, but ya might wanna sit down…"

Master Splinter sat down warily, "I have a very poor feeling on this matter…"

"Yeah, an' I don' blame ya," Raph said, placing himself on the floor before his master, "Okay…" he took a deep breath and then felt a hand on his shoulder. Mikey was seated next to him, smiling supportively. "I dunno if anybody's noticed, 'cept fer Mikey, as of last night, that I ain't really been happy lately. Not that I'm really-out-there cheery normally, but anyway," he found himself twirling a sai distractedly and quickly placed it and its twin on the floor. The last thing he needed was to look threatened, scared – even though it _was_ how he was feeling. "I dunno know why, but the usual ways I blew off steam stopped workin', an' it got to where I was fit to burst an' then…I found uh, a new outlet. I…well…" Mikey gave him a gentle nudge and he blurted out, "I been drinkin' – a lot lately…too much, I realize now…anyway, so that's where I been." He finished lamely, wanting to say more, to try and justify himself, but he knew he couldn't. He just hung his head, biting his bottom lip involuntarily, waiting for the worst.

He felt his brother touch him again reassuringly and his head snapped back up, "An' one more thing – don't punish Mikey for any a' this. He had nothin' ta do with it."

The old rat's nose twitched slightly, and he took in a deep breath before releasing it slowly, "What you have told me is greatly troubling, Raphael. I have striven for eighteen years to teach all of you to make the decisions most beneficial to our style of living. I see now that my lessons fell on deaf ears, if one of you could stray so far. A wise Ninja's body and mind must always be at their peak, alert and ready. Drugs are the most dangerous enemies that face the warrior," Splinter shook his head, eyes closed, "By ignoring the warnings of your sensei and partaking in such damaging practices, you have dishonored me."

Dishonor…the word echoed long and hard into the depths of Raphael's very soul. That was the last thing he had expected his master to say…and it hit him harder than any physical punishment ever could have. He fell forwards, forearms hitting the grimy steel floor, ashamed, the word still hanging over him.

Up on the ledge, leaning over in an attempt to see, Leondaro nearly lost his grip on the edge of the outcrop, shocked, "Don?" he asked quietly, looking over at the most intelligent (technology-wise, at least) of the brothers, "Please tell me I heard wrong…"

Donatello looked like he might cry then and there, out of pity for their brother. "I wish I could, Leo…I really wish I could…"

Master Splinter stood slowly, using his walking stick as a crutch to trek slowly back to his chamber. He sighed, attempting to will away the pain in his heart. Part of him wished to forgive his adoptive son, while another wished to punish him further for his actions. Suddenly, the rat felt very old, as if all his years had caught up with him at once, weighing down on his back, an immovable burden.

Raphael's breathing was heavy, his eyes shut tight, trying to keep the tears from betraying him. He could feel his brother's eyes on him, and he couldn't take it. Slowly getting to his feet, he glared down at the brother beside him, "I told you this was a bad idea…" he whispered shakily before turning and leaving the lair, wanting to be well enough away before he finally broke down.

Mikey watched Raph leave, too stunned to chase after him immediately. He glanced up at his two brothers in the rafters, attempting to find his voice, "So…what should we do?"

"I…I don't know…" Leo said, shaking his head as he and Don joined Mikey on the first floor.

"What _I_ don't know," Don said, "is how none of us noticed anything was going on before this had to happen…"

"Raph's always been unhappy," Leo said lamely, "And I gave up trying to stop him from going to the surface years ago. How were we supposed to know what was going on? He doesn't exactly like to open up to us."

"I know…" Don nodded, "I kind of wish he would find someone he _would_ open up to, besides Casey–"

"Who's a bad influence anyway," Leo said, scowling.

"But it's probably too much to hope for," Don shrugged.

Mikey scratched his bald, green dome, "I don't know anyone Raph'd talk to, 'cept maybe April…"

"Let's just hope he finds his way there," Leo said, "instead of into more trouble."

* * *

The Authors Talk Back!

**terran631** - Thanks! Hope this update was quick enough!

**Reluctant Dragon** - Thank you! We work our hardest to keep everyone in character.

**SulliMike23** - You can expect to see more of Casey, as well as April in upcoming chapters!

**Silver Sky 45** - Don't worry - we're rooting for Raph too!

**VestqueX **- Thank you so much! We liked getting the chance to show Mikey forced into a more serious role, and we love seeing him looking out for the ones he loves.

**SUzie** - Which one of us are you going to name your first born after? Samantha or Shaun? I guess if you have twins you wouldn't have to worry about it. Thanks for the review!


	6. Chapter 5 Unity

Chapter 5

"This is yer stop, kid," Casey announced as he brought his battered, worn pick-up to a stop in front of the police station. He managed (with only minor difficulty), to open his slightly dented driver's side door. A quick jog around the front of the vehicle allowed the vigilante (mask now securely in place) to move into position to open the child's door, "Right this way."

"Seems like chivalry isn't dead at all," she said wryly, sliding out of the car and staring up at the station, "So homey-looking, isn't it?"

"Yup," Casey agreed, eyeing the building.

"Well, thanks for the ride. I think I can take it from here," she said, heading up the steps.

Jones laughed aloud, "You're kiddin'. Right?" he asked, walking up behind her, "How's about you an' I walk in together, huh?"

"Exactly what I was thinking," she grinned, letting him guide her through the door into the lobby.

The officer behind the front desk looked up as they entered and he frowned, "Well, look who's back. Haven't seen you in a while, Kylee."

"I missed you too, James," she said, her cheeky grin having transmogrified into a hard scowl the second he'd spotted her.

"Ol' friends?" Casey asked her quietly.

"You might say that," she shrugged.

"Speaking of old friends," James said, rising from his chair, "I've got a few of your in the back who'll just love to see you."

"Ohh…finally bagged a few Purple Dragons, have you?" she asked with mock-interest.

"'Bout time," Casey said, adjusting the bag on his back so he could reach it, "Here, sir," he said, his voice a tad muffled from the mask he wore. Jones held out a brown paper bag, "This stuff was in her coat."

James's eyes lit up as he took the bag and looked inside, "Finally gotcha before you could sell it. You're busted big-time now, sweetie."

"Joy," she said blandly, "Don't suppose you've got any reward money for this fine gentleman, do you?" she jerked her head in Casey's direction.

"Wait, what?" Casey asked, obviously confused.

"Well, they've wanted me hauled in for a while now," she shrugged, "I figured they'd at least make it worth your while to hand me over to them."

"No thanks," the vigilante shrugged, moving to leave, "Just doin' you a favor, kid."

"And she does appreciate it – I can tell," James said, putting a hand on each of Kylee's shoulders from behind, "She likes you. She came willingly. So thank you, uh, sir…" he said, eyeing the masked man as if seeing him for the first time, "The NYPD will take it from here."

"Go for it, man," Jones responded, waving once as he headed out the door, "Anything to reform the punkers."

"See ya, hockey-man," she said, winking at him before being steered down the hall and out of sight.

Casey simply smiled and left the building, walking out into the bright, New York City morning sun.

* * *

"Raph? What are you doing here so early? Wha-what's wrong?" Twenty-five-year-old April O'Neil, hair still wet from her morning shower, swung the door to her apartment open wide, taking the teen turtle's arm, pulling him inside. _'He's been crying…' _she thought to herself, noting the streaks of wetness on his cheeks, _'But why? God, what could've happened?' _

"Nothin'," he murmured, allowing himself to be brought into her living quarters.

_'Of course he doesn't wanna tell me,' _she thought, _'That's fine. We can do this his way.'_ "Here sit down," she gestured at the couch, "Are you hungry?"

"Nah, just…just wanted ta check up on ya…see how you were doin' an' all…"

"Oh, yeah I'm just as good as I was last week when you guys came by," she said, ruffling her own wet hair with one hand and sitting down beside him, "Business is slowly growing, though I wish I could find someone to help me out downstairs sometimes. Not that I don't appreciate everything you guys have done to help me, it's just that it'd be nice to have someone who I could present to the customers, is all." She bit her bottom lip, knowing she was probably talking too much.

It was true though. After the antique shop was destroyed three years ago they'd been so supportive, helping her find a new place. And true to his words the first night they'd met, Donnie had aided her in creating a small business of her own: a tiny tech/research center below her apartment from which she had created a connection with a ring of other up-and-coming businesses, performing technical consultations and making repairs all while continuing to develop new technologies at home. Donnie, of course, operated as a silent partner, and had been quite an inspiration to her, as far as research and development was concerned. All in all, things weren't too bad in her life. But at the moment, her own success was the farthest thing from her mind.

Raph didn't even seem to have heard her, until a moment passed and he spoke up dully, "Didja ask Casey?"

"Casey means well, but he's just a bit too destructive," she said with a smile, "Actually, I…uh…I put in a request to the juvenile detention center," she admitted, her smile faltering just a bit.

Again, no reaction passed over Raphael's face, and his response seemed almost delayed, "Didn't know they leased 'em out. Gonna get one'a those punks on parole or somethin'?"

"Sort of. It's a new reformatory program, and it helps to lessen their sentence," she said, "I asked for a young girl – I figure that'd be the easiest to handle."

Another long pause of awkward silence, "Ever get around ta those self-defense lessons?"

"For three weeks now," she said, "You guy's be proud of me, I think I'm doing well." There was another silence as she stared down at her hands, debating over if she really wanted to press him about why he was really with her and not with his family. Finally she said quietly, "Raphael…are you sure you're okay? You just seem kind of…distracted."

He blinked gloomily, his mind seemingly worlds away. This time there was no response from the amphibian, just silence as he continued to stare forward. Her words had failed to even register within him, his thoughts too focused on the incident in the sewers.

His demeanor tugged at her heartstrings. Even when he was brooding he was never this quiet. Knowing he didn't want to talk, but knowing also that she couldn't just sit there and do nothing, she slid closer to him. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she gently kissed the top of his head, every fiber in her body wanting nothing more than to comfort her surrogate little brother. He was hurting, and she wanted to do anything she could to lessen it.

It might take all day, but she knew he would talk, when he was ready. And she could wait. She had no responsibilities more pressing than this, and so she just sat there, holding him, the only sounds being the morning traffic so far below them.

* * *

"Man, this is all my fault!"

"What are you talking about?" Donnie looked up from his lab, where he'd been poking at the Battle Shell's new remote absentmindedly.

Mikey sighed, holding his head in his hands as he sat, partially hunched over on the sofa, "I made Raph come here to tell everyone about his problems. I thought Master Splinter (along with you guys), would be supportive. Now he's run off, maybe for good!"

"Maybe telling sensei first wasn't quite the right choice," Leo said, seated next to Mikey on the couch, polishing one of his katanas, "It may have been better to talk to just us first – get him started on rehabilitation…then, once he'd made progress we could let it all out in the open."

"But it's too late to think about 'what ifs' now," Donnie said, spinning around in his swivel chair to face them, "Mikey – you did the right thing getting him to admit to the problem, you just didn't execute it properly."

"I can't say I blame him for leaving, though," Leo said solemnly, "I can only imagine how humiliating this morning must have been for him…if it were me, I'd want to get out too."

Mikey sniffled a bit, "Ya know, you two are doin' a real good job a' makin' me feel better here. Can't we pretend for a moment that I already know I screwed up horribly and that I feel terrible already?"

Leo and Donnie exchanged guilty looks. "Sorry," Leo said, setting his sword down on the coffee table so he could swing one arm around his brother's shoulders, "We know you were only trying to help him."

"Yeah," Donnie nodded, "Given what an odd night it must have been last night, we probably would have done the same in your position."

"Would it make you feel better if we all went out and looked for him?" Leo offered gently, "Together? Dishonored or not, he _is_ still our brother, after all."

Mikey smiled, blinking away the drops of liquid his body had produced from his eyes, "Yeah, yeah it would…thanks guys…"

Leonardo stood up, resheathing his katana and stretching, "Let's roll."

* * *

April kept her office closed that day – there was no dire need to open it, and her attention was best served elsewhere. Over lunch (she'd warmed up left-over frozen pizza) Raph had told her simply that he'd gotten himself into trouble and didn't think he was very welcome at home for the moment. He would say no more on the matter and she didn't push him. She was happy he was talking at all, though he still seemed pretty out of it.

They had spent the entire morning sitting on the couch in tense silence, and after lunch it was where they returned, the most of the tension was gone. Raphael had never rebuffed her attempts to comfort him and she appreciated it, now curled up beside him, with one of his arms around her, massaging her shoulder numbly. She could hear his heart beating beneath the plastron and was glad that the pulse-rate was normal. He was calmer now, she realized with relief. That was a start.

* * *

"Hey guys! What're you all doin' out in the middle of the day? Ain't that against the rules or somethin'?"

"Hi Casey. Have you seen Raph at all today?" Leo said curtly. There was no time for pleasantries.

"Nah, but he was here last night," the vigilante responded rather lamely, wishing he could have thought of a better answer than that to give the three brothers of his friend.

Mikey looked discouraged, but Donnie snapped his fingers, "I'm gonna call April," he said, pulling out his Shell Cell, "Even if Raph isn't there, we can let her know to keep an eye out for him."

"What's wrong?" Casey asked, slightly concerned over the unusual amount of attention his friend was getting.

"Well…" Leo glanced over at Mikey warily before continuing, "Raph's run off again. I know it sounds like just-the-usual, but it's more serious this time. He disappointed Master Splinter by his recent behavior and kind of feels like he's been disowned. Which of course isn't true," he added hurriedly, "and we just need to find him before he does something we'll all regret."

"Gimme a minute to get my gear an' I'll help ya," the human offered, turning to retreat into his apartment to retrieve his weapons bag and mask.

* * *

The Authors Talk Back!

**SulliMike23** - Thanks!

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	7. Chapter 6 Inner Strength

Chapter 6

The ring of the telephone in the kitchen made April jump slightly, but she made no move to answer it. Probably a client or maybe the JV detention center. Whoever it was could leave a message.

The machine picked up and Donatello's worried voice floated in from the kitchen, "Hey April, it's Donnie. I guess you're probably out working by now but listen – if you see Raph at all, please let us know. We're all worried about him – Mikey feels awful, too – blames himself for the whole mess. Anyway, I guess that's all…so hopefully we'll hear back from you. And if we find him first, we'll let you know right away. Bye." Click.

April glanced up at Raph, biting her bottom lip nervously.

Raphael didn't move, but merely continued to flip through the same 11 channels that April's 6-years-too-old television received. Though outwardly he did not reveal that he had heard the not unpleasant sounds of familiarity with the outside world, his silence was loud enough to express his inner feelings. That, along with the single tear that nearly escaped his right eye from under his mask. The amphibian wiped at the liquid quickly, hoping it would go unnoticed by his singular female friend, "Not much on, is there?" he asked, hoping to cast away the voices within himself by producing actual sounds waves. Naught but small talk, but talk nonetheless.

"Nothing but daytime talkshows and soap operas," she said, forcing a smile, "I used to follow 'Days of our Lives', but it always got too complicated, and by the time I knew what was going on, they'd have changed everything on me. So I kind of gave up. Those things were always too fake anyway – no real emotion."

"Lucky them," he muttered under his breath.

"I've always loved the late-night, black-and-white movies, though," she said, pretending not to have heard him, "Sometimes I just get in a funk where it really feels good to cry, and those always do it for me."

"Don' like cryin'," he said bluntly, "Never have. Not comfortable, 'barrassing, an' it doesn' make me feel any better." His defenses were failing on him, all the talk of sadness, loss, depression biting into his innermost layers of shielding. Emotions were for the weak, those unable to cope with their problems. It simply didn't suit him. Raph was tough, a fighter, an unstoppable war machine to his enemies and a hot-headed, but fairly agreeable friend to those close to him. Crying showed signs of limitation, failing, fault. He didn't know the definition of such things, they simply did not exist within "Raphael, Ninja". Water cannot be withdrawn from a heart of stone. Then why did the tears flow so?

"Oh, Raphael…" April hiccoughed, silent tears pouring down her own face now, at the sight of his, "It's okay…it's okay…" She sat up, drawing him closer to him, letting him bury his face in her chest, wishing her arms could actually reach all the way around his massive bulk. Kissing the top of his head again, she whispered, "You don't always have to be so brave, you know…"

"Yeah…I do."

* * *

The sun was beginning to set and the three turtle brothers and the vigilante were getting discouraged. "What if he skipped town all together?" Mikey wondered sadly, sitting down on the rooftop where they were currently perched.

"I doubt it," Casey spoke up firmly, "He's never even been outside the city. It's not exactly like he would know where to go, or even what direction to go to leave."

"I just wish April had called us back…" Donnie said, hanging up the Shell Cell, "I'm still getting the machine at her apartment."

"Maybe we should just head over there," Leo suggested, "Even if she's not home, Raph may have snuck in through a window or something, to wait for her."

"Think it's a good idea just ta drop in on 'er?" Jones asked, scratching his chin (scraggly, and in need of a good shave), "I mean, no offense, but you guys might scare off customers."

"Well, we weren't thinkin' of walkin' in the front door," Mikey said, getting to his feet, looking glad for something else to try.

"Besides," Donnie said, "I called the shop floor too and got the machine. She's probably out with a client somewhere, and it won't be open. No eye-witnesses to worry about."

"As long as you guys got it under control: let's go," Casey replied, standing up and moving his mask back into position.

* * *

"Look at this…" April choked, with a small laugh as she gently untied the knot in Raphael's mask, "you've soaked this thing clean through…" She pulled it away from him and set it on the coffee table. Taking his chin in her hands, she drew him up so they were at eye level again, brushing at his wet cheeks with her thumbs. His big brown eyes were still leaking, and he seemed so lost, so much younger and more vulnerable without the mask. "Hey…it's gonna be okay – I promise," she murmured.

He rubbed furiously at his eyes with his large, two-fingered hands, angered at his uncontrolled display of emotion, "Wish I could believe ya," he sniffed, turning his head away, "But yer just sayin' that."

"No, not at all," she said, grabbing his hands, "Didn't you hear Donnie call before? Your brothers are worried sick about you. No matter what you've done, they still love you. That's never going to change."

"I betta get going," he said, avoiding the current subject matter, "I wasted 'nough a' your time already. Thanks fer lettin' me stay, April," Raph stood, gently pulling his hands out of her grip and reaching for the wettened mask on the table.

"It's not a waste at all," she said, "And where will you go, if you don't think you can go home? Why don't you stay? I've been meaning to take some time off anyway."

"Nah, I don' wanna…" _What's the damn word?_ A picture of Donatello reading the Webster's dictionary from cover-to-cover appeared in his head, and Raph blinked several times, trying to focus on the present. That was the past, all of it… "…uh, impose."

"It's not an imposition," she said, slightly taken aback that he thought of himself as a burden to her, "We're practically family – I couldn't live with myself if I turned you out on the street," she said, taking hold of his arm.

"Well, I think I just need ta be alone for a little while," he conceded. If she wouldn't let him leave, at least he could brood by himself somewhere, "Mind if I use yer roof?"

"Sure," she sighed, wondering if he'd actually stay there, "Just come back inside when it gets dark, okay?"

"Kay," he agreed, nodding. As he pivoted around, preparing to leave the room and head up to the top of the building, a crash was heard from the kitchen. Voices (familiar), were heard from the room, "Nice job, Casey. Are you ever gonna get that operation to make you less clumsy? Or dumb for that matter?"

"Hey, chill – I'll clean it up."

"Uh oh," April muttered, before darting to stop Raphael from escaping out the front door, "Hold it, hold it, hold it!" she whispered to him, "Don't you want to talk to them?"

"Not especially."

Her face fell, "What should I tell them?"

"You ain't seen me?" he asked hopefully.

She frowned, "No, I'm not going to let you run away from this." If she could just hold him here for a few more seconds, the others were sure to come in spot them.

"And why not, may I ask?"

"Because I don't want to lose you," she said, a little more loudly than she would have liked.

This of course, caught the attention of those in the kitchen. "Raph!!" Mikey cried, bounding into the living room, "I can't believe you're here!"

"April, what's going on?" Donnie asked warily, as he and Leo also entered, followed lastly by Casey, "I…I called five times…"

"When?" Raph spoke up, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe it was only two," Donnie shrugged sheepishly, "But that's not the point – why didn't you call us back? We've been through the whole city looking for you."

"He just needed some time to think about things," April said, coming to his defense.

"You didn't have to run off like that!" Leo scolded, folding his arms across his chest, "I'm sure Master Splinter was just upset; There was no reason to run out like that and make us all worry!"

"'Just upset' my ass," Raph said, "You heard 'im. I sure as hell ain't welcome in the sewers anymore."

"You weren't relieved of your sais, or your title," the blue-masked amphibian responded coldly, as if stating a completely obvious fact, "You dishonored our master with your actions, but your apprenticeship to him wasn't withdrawn. Sensei was merely getting a point across."

"Ya know what Leo?" Raphael started, one finger raised in Leo's direction, but lost his momentum and his arm fell limp at his side, "You're right…" he muttered, "So what am I supposed to do?"

"Apologize for being an idiot, for starters."

"What? To _ you_??"

"No, to Master Splinter, genius," Don said, shaking his head.

"Uh…oh...right," Raph nodded, "An' what if he won't accept it?"

"He's our father, bro," Mikey reminded him, walking over to his short-fused brother and putting one hand on his shoulder, "He will accept it."

"All you have to do is swallow your pride and make the effort," Leo said.

"Come on," Donnie said, coming up along Raph's other side, "Let's go home, okay?"

"Please??" Mikey begged hopefully, "We'll be right behind you the whole time – I promise."

Raphael found himself glad he had cried so much earlier. If his ducts hadn't been dry, he probably would've started again then and there. "Thanks guys," he said shakily.

"Now that's what we like ta hear!" Casey said, smiling.

April brushed her own new supply of tears away, a smile now on her face as well. Brotherhood was an amazing thing to watch in action.


	8. Chapter 7 Forgiveness

Chapter 7

"Well, go on," Mikey gave Raph a gentle shove from behind, pushing him up the stairs to the door of Splinter's meditation chamber. The red-masked teen raised his hand to the door, and then glanced back at his siblings, nervously.

The other three turtles gave their brother the "thumbs-up" sign, smiling broadly.

Raph swallowed the ever-growing lump in his throat and rapped lightly on the wooden framework of the door.

"Enter," came the gravelly voice of the old rat, muffled by the door but still quite understandable.

Raphael slid the door open and stepped inside, sliding it shut again behind him. His mentor was seated at the far end of the room, on a slightly raised platform, facing away from the door, hunched over an aged book of Japanese scripture. The terrapin crossed the room and dropped to his knees on the floor, head bowed low. "Master…I know that I've disgraced you…and I know it's probably too late, but I…I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry for the way I am. I'm sorry I haven't been the son you deserve. I never meant to bring dishonor upon our family, an' I wish I could take back a lotta the things I've done, but I can't. I won't ever be as focused as Leo, or as smart as Donnie, or as gung-ho as Mikey. I won't ever be perfect, but I…I wanna keep tryin'…if you'll let me." He could see his own sweat collecting on the floor, which his nose was almost touching, and his bit his bottom lip, waiting in the tormenting silence.

The aging mammal let a small sigh escape from his lips. He turned and stood slowly, walking over to his apprentice. Splinter leaned on his walking stick, using it as support for his ever-wearying body, "Your act of contrition is the first step on the path to reclaiming the grace you lost. I let my temper receive the better of me earlier today; You are my son, and though you may disappoint me at times, the realization of your problem and request for help in finding a suitable solution is a most excellent sign of your maturity as a ninjitsu warrior and as a person," he smiled and offered a hand to Raphael, "Rise, my son. Your apology is quite sufficient."

Raphael accepted his sensei's hand gratefully, stood, bowed again and then wrapped his arms around the old rat in a strong hug, murmuring, "Thanks…Dad…"

Sensei winced but decided not to comment on the fact that his lower back was going to feel quite poor tomorrow morning, "You're welcome."

Raph stepped back and took a deep breath (he was breathing easy again), a genuine smile on his face. "Man, I feel better now – I'm gonna go see if Mikey wants ta help me cook somthin' for dinner. Whadda ya want? Ya know what – I'm just gonna whip up everything we got!" he said, before dashing out of the room like he was walking on air.

Splinter merely shook his head, though the small grin that crossed his face gave away his true feelings, "Good luck, Raphael. Please try not to burn down the kitchen…again."

"Can do!" Raph called back as he opened the door to the main area of the Lair, "Hey Mikey – guess what?"

* * *

"Wouldn't it be easier – and safer – to just order out?" Donnie asked warily as he leaned against the fridge while Mikey and Raph took inventory of their options.

"Don, you're in the way," Raph said, grabbing his techno-genius brother by the arms and steering him to the other side of the room as Mikey opened the now un-road-blocked fridge.

"Why do I get such a bad feeling about this?" Don asked as he took a seat next to Leo at the table.

"Hey – if it makes them happy," Leo shrugged, "all we have to do is supervise. No one ever said we have to eat whatever they concoct."

"Fair enough, but I'll flip you for fire extinguisher duty," Don replied, pulling a quarter out of a hidden pocket on his belt.

"Sure – I call heads. Wait – is it winner gets fire patrol or the other way around?"

"Heads: You get it, Tails: I don't. Okay?"

"Okay – no! Wait!"

Donny grinned, tossing the hard, U.S. currency high into the air with a flick of his large thumb, "Too late, you said 'okay'!"

"That's not fair," Leo whined as the coin landed back down on the table, spun a few times and then fell on its face.

"Ha ha!" Don chuckled as he put the coin away, "Looks like you lose. So…" he turned his attention back to the 'chefs', "what's on the menu tonight, boys?"

"Dunno," Mikey started, looking over at Raph, "As long as it doesn't involve alcohol I think Master Splinter'll let it pass."

Raphael was pulling a bottle of cooking wine out of the fridge as Mikey said this, "Ya don't hafta worry about it, Mike," he said, uncorking the bottle and dumping its contents down the sink, "Startin' here an' now I quit drinkin' – cold turkey." He tossed the bottle in the trash and then grinned embarrassedly up at his brothers, "I'm gonna…um, need you guys' help with this, alright?"

All three looked at each other, then grinned over at Raph, "No problem!" the turtles told him simultaneously.

"Heh, not sure if I should be grateful or worried," he said, squatting down to pull a stack of pots out of the cupboards beneath the counter, "You guys in the mood for Italian?"

"Mmmmm," Mikey licked his lips, "Spaghetti: instant meal by just adding water! And sauce…and maybe meatballs…"

"Another wonder from the makers of pizza," Donnie joked, "For the more sophisticated diners."

"Yeah," Leo nodded, "Those who know how to use a fork."

"Who doesn't?" the orange-masked terrapin being asked, obviously not picking up on the fairly blunt sarcasm.

"Ya know – there is such a thing as _pizza_ spaghetti," Raph said, setting a stack of pots down on the counter and separating them.

"Really?" Leonardo asked, raising an eyeridge, "Never had that before. What's it like?"

"Who cares?" Mikey cried, "If it's got pizza in the name, how could it be bad? Let's go for it!"

"I never actually tried it before," Raph admitted, rummaging through the cabinets on the walls, "Just caught the recipe on TV one night and thought it looked pretty good."

"Cool," Mikey said.

"Whoa, whoa – wait a minute," Don said, putting a hand up, "Are you telling me _you _ watch cooking shows??"

Raph shrugged embarrassedly, "Hey, that Emeril guy rocks, what can I say?"

Leo sighed and turned to leave, "I'm goin' to get the extinguisher. Keep an eye on the master chefs, would ya?"

"Will do," Donnie nodded, as Raph started up the burners on their rusty stove with a cigarette lighter and Mikey tugged at a well-glued box of spaghetti with his teeth.

"Hey, be careful with that, spazz," Raph warned, "We don't need that all over the floor."

"I _am_ careful," Mikey said, tearing the lid off the box without a hitch, "See? Nothin' to it," he said smugly, sliding out a large handful and holding them over the pot by the ends.

Raphael looked up and his eyes widened, "No Mikey! Not like that!"

But the warning came a hair too late, and Michaelangelo bent the stiff pasta downwards. As the omniscient beings decreed should happen, it splintered into tiny fragments and shot out across the room. Leonardo returned to the kitchen just in time to be rained upon with spaghetti shrapnel.

"Heh heh…Oops?" Mikey grinned widely at Raph, who just scowled.

The fiery turtle walked over to his brother, who was now feebly holding the remaining, jagged, uneven thin sticks of spaghetti. Taking another handful, Raphael got a firm grip near the center of the foodstuffs and broke them neatly in half, allowing the pieces to fall into the water. He glared daggers at Mikey and brushed several pieces of projectile spaghetti from the lining of his shell, hoping this demonstration would be enough to avoid violence.

"Having fun already, are we?" Leo asked, brushing splintered pasta off his seat before planting himself back in it, with the fire extinguisher at his side.

"Looks that way," Donnie nodded, collecting all the fragments on the table into a small pile.

Raph merely continued to glare at Mikey for several seconds, before he turned away and began to open cabinets, hoping to locate a jar of "Ragu".

"Sorry…" Mikey said weakly, but not really looking repentant, "I'll just…clean up then," he added, pulled a dustpan and broom out from between the fridge and the cabinets.

Leo rolled his eyes, and then glanced over at Donnie, one eyeridge raised, "What are you doing?"

"Playing spaghetti 'Scrabble' with myself," Don replied, now with 'antidisestablishmentarianism' spelled out in pasta pieces before him on the table.

Leonardo sighed and shook his head, "This is why we say you have too much free time, Don."

Raphael had now covered the counter with foodstuffs in all manner of packages and was scrawling on an old napkin with a pen. "Get offa the floor, Mikey," he said, not looking up as the team's 'class clown' crawled past him, still gathering up his mess, "You can grovel for forgiveness later – right now I need ya to start measuring out just what I got written here, while I finish with the pasta. Think you can handle that?"

Mikey stood, accidentally using the hand that was holding the dustpan to sketch a rough salute out to Raph. This motion, however, caused all of the debris he had collect to be promptly flung in his face, then scatter on the floor once more. Flustered, the turtle turned around to gather up the small bits of wasted food. This action proved to be even more lethal, as the broom he gripped firmly in his left hand managed to smack Raph in the face when he made to bend over.

"Rrrrrrrr…Mikeeeeeeyyy…" Raph seethed, clenched fists shaking with frustration.

"Nice to have things back to normal, isn't it?" Leo said with a smile.

"I don't know these people – I just live here," Donnie said, not looking up from his game.

Mikey stopped and straightened up again, "Oops, sorry Raph. I'll just put this away." He turned once more, intending to deposit the sweeping device in the closet, but instead managing to whack his brother in the face again as he turned around.

Raph let out a grunt of pain and then grabbed the broom away from his brother, growling like a provoked wild animal, advancing menacingly, holding the cleaning tool like a hatchet.

"Hey Don," Michaelangelo spoke up worriedly, "I did one of those things you told me not to do again…"

"Two words, Mikey," Donatello said simply, "Run."

"But that's only one word – Ow! Ow! Hey! Quit it!" Mikey cried, attempting to flee as Raphael chased him around the kitchen, whacking him with the broom.

"Raph, is dinner ever gonna get done or should I order a pizza now?" Leo asked, fingering the fire extinguisher, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to use it.

"Yeah, I'm getting to it," Raph said, closeting the broom, before shoving the old napkin into Mikey's hand, "And you…" he growled, grabbing his brother forcefully by the shoulders and steering him back over to the counter, "Try and keep your accident-proneness to yourself. I'd like to go through life _without_ lookin' like I ran headlong into a brick wall."

"But you do that all the time – Ow!"

"Just get to work – will ya?" Raph said after smacking Mickey upside the head, "You did wanna help, didn't ya?"

"Yeah…'course."

"Good. Then _ do_ that," Raph said, glancing over at the pot on the stove, which was practically boiling over, "Aw, shit!" he cried, turning the burner off quickly, and waving at the steam with the other hand.

"Does spaghetti burn?" Leo asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't put it past them," Don said.

"No, it doesn't burn," Raph said indignantly, "But if ya let it go for too long, it ruins it." Yanking an oven mitt off a hook on the wall, he slipped it on and lifted the pot up, pouring its contents into a strainer over the sink. Setting the empty pot aside, he twisted the faucet, letting cold water run over the limp noodles. "How're the toppings comin', Mikey?"

"I got sprinkles, gumdrops-"

"What?? Mikey, did you even _look _at what I wrote for ya??"

"Huh? Oh – no. Don't hit me!" the orange-masked turtle put his hands up to protect his head.

"Read the damn, paper, Mikey," Raph grumbled, "Trust me, after an hour at 300 degrees, sprinkles and gumdrops ain't gonna be too appetizin'."

"Ya know, we could just cut it down to 15 minutes at 1200 degrees, couldn't we?"

"The oven doesn't go that high," Raph explained, as if it were a kindergartener he was addressing, "And I don't think Leo would appreciate the attempt, either. Here, move over," he added, shoving Mikey over a bit, "It'll go faster if I walk ya through this, apparently."

"Kay," Mikey agreed, stepping aside.

"Now look, it's not that complicated – it's just normal stuff you put on a pizza –"

"No anchovies, right?"

"No. No anchovies. Just mozzarella, pepperoni, onions and peppers," Raph listed, sliding the vegetables over in front of his brother, "Can I trust ya to dice these without hurtin' either of us?"

"Hacking up those poor innocent onions," Mikey faked a small sniffle, "Always makes me tear up…"

"You are so lame…" Raph sighed, "I'd hoped you'd outgrow that."

"We'd hoped you would outgrow that ugly zit on top of your neck- oh wait, that's yer face… Still, you don't see us complaining much," Mikey retorted, placing down the wooden cutting board.

"Yer really pushin' it tonight, ya know."

"I know, but I figure I still have a little bit of breathing room between 'Raph-Annoyed' and 'Raph-Causing Pain'."

"Let's keep it that way, then – for your sake," Raphael said with a smirk, elbowing his brother in the side.

Donnie had now recruited Leo into playing spaghetti 'Hangman' with him, and at the moment, the katana-wielding turtle wasn't faring so well. "I swear, Donnie, if this is another scientific name for some bird only found in Zimbabwe…"

"For your information, it happens to be native to Lithuania," Don said matter-of-factly.

"That's it; I'm choosing the next word," Leo said, sliding all the pieces over in front of him.

"Hey," Don objected, "You weren't finished with mine yet."

"You know I was never going to get it," Leo said, resetting the game, "And it's patronizing when you start adding tendons and ligaments onto the hangman."

"But it adds realism…" Donatello protested quietly, watching as Leonardo began to set out places for letters to go.

"Alright, go ahead," Leo said smugly, gesturing at the table.

"Man…this is probably the hometown of some master swordsmith back in thirteenth century Japan," Donnie said.

"Perhaps….or maybe fourteenth century…"

"Augh…"

"Boy, you guys sure play a messed-up version of that game," Mikey said, turning to watch them while Raphael mixed the sauce into the pasta.

"Hey – it's more personal this way," Leo said, "Sort of like an exchange of cultural ideas."

"Yeah," Donnie nodded, tapping his chin with one finger, still examining the 'game board', "It's a way to learn about each others' interests without actually having to sit and listen to a lecture."

"Master Splinter should take a leaf out of whatever book you got that, Don," Mikey said, smiling.

"Word games bore me," Raph said, shaking the shredded mozzarella over the noodles, now spread evenly in a pan.

"That's cuz you have a limited vocabulary," Mikey replied, putting one arm around his brother's shoulder.

"I got your limited vocabulary – right here!" Raph growled, waving his fist threateningly in Mike's face.

"Yeah, that's pretty limited," Mikey nodded, counting his brother's large fingers with one of his own, "I see one…two…wow a whole two words – that's impressive."

"F-ck you."

"See? Right there! What more do you need in life than that?" Raph took a swing at him, but he ducked and grabbed the pepperoni, "You wouldn't hurt a turtle with a pizza topping, would you?"

Leo just shook his head, "Guys: dinner. Remember that? That strange ritual we perform each night when we gather in the living room and fill our bellies? Yeah, I'd like to get to that sometime before breakfast."

"Keep yer shell on," Raph said, snatching the meat away from Mikey and placing it atop the cheese and vegetable-covered noodles, "Now what do you guys wanna do for an hour while we wait for this?" he asked as he slid the pan into the already-preheated oven and set the egg-timer Donnie had previously repaired for them.

"We could make fun of you some more!" Mikey suggested jokingly.

"How 'bout somethin' that _won't _result in your death?" Raph replied.

"We could play video games," Mikey said next, "I know you _all_ wanna DDR with me!"

"Mikey – nobody but _nobody_ wants to play that stupid game wit' you," Raph growled.

"Oh yes you do," the orange-masked turtle said, "You had fun last time."

"No I didn't!"

"Nah," Leo spoke up, "I think he was too busy tripping over himself."

"There must be something we could all agree on," Donnie said, placing a final letter in Leo's puzzle with still one leg to go.

"There's always my favorite," Raph said.

"No, we're not going to 'pound the snot' out of Mikey," Leo said forcefully.

The red-masked turtle snapped his fingers, then crossed his arms poutily.

"Well, I've got something that might solve this," Don said, getting up from the table.

"I ain't playin' anymore 'Trivial Pursuit'," Raph said firmly.

"Just follow me," Don said, heading out of the kitchen.

* * *

A Note from the Authors:

Sooooo sorry about the gap, nay, RAVINE, between updates! With college starting, I've (Sam) been going crazy and Shaun's got work now, so we both will be continuing with this story, but it'll be slower than it was during the summer! Sorry again!!

The Invaders


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